In 1924, in my hometown of Danville, Indiana, the local undertaker, Charles Baker, opened a hardware store on the southeast corner of our town square. When he died, his son, Rawleigh, inherited the funeral home and hardware store. Rawleigh, his wife, and two sons lived over the funeral home, a curvy block west of our home on Broadway Street. I never saw Rawleigh wear anything but a suit, even while waxing his hearse. He seemed ancient when I was a child, though he was only in his fifties.
